


The Definition of Nice

by phnelt



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Edging, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22285840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phnelt/pseuds/phnelt
Summary: “You’re always so mean to me,” Jaskier said, pink cheeked and sweating as Geralt screwed into him slowly, really letting himself feel how hot Jaskier was around him, spread beneath him on the straw stuffed mattress this inn swore was their best.“Really?” Geralt said, conversationally, just for the way it made Jaskier’s scent spike with annoyance. Geralt licked a stripe up the side of his neck to taste the spice of him. “I think I’m uncommonly nice to you.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 131
Kudos: 1400





	The Definition of Nice

“You’re always so mean to me,” Jaskier said, pink cheeked and sweating as Geralt screwed into him slowly, really letting himself feel how hot Jaskier was around him, spread beneath him on the straw stuffed mattress this inn swore was their best. 

“Really?” Geralt said, conversationally, just for the way it made Jaskier’s scent spike with annoyance. Geralt licked a stripe up the side of his neck to taste the spice of him. “I think I’m uncommonly nice to you.” 

To prove it he sped up and up until Jaskier couldn’t do anything but hook his leg around Geralt’s neck and try to hold on. 

“See how nice I am? Fucking you just the way you like?” He smoothed out his strokes, rolling his hips against Jaskier’s. 

Jaskier glared at him. “No, because as soon as I get close, you’ll slow down -- oh.” 

Just to be contrary Geralt pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in firmly, gripping Jaskier’s hips with both hands so he couldn’t push back, couldn’t do anything but take it, enjoying the sound they made when they came together. 

“Hm,” he said and then didn’t speak for a while, just enjoying the feel of Jaskier. He set a steady rhythm, one that he could maintain for as long as he pleased. 

Everything between them was hot. Jaskier’s skin was slick with sweat, and the _smell_ of him was intoxicating, lust thick enough to drug a horse and not a lick of fear. Geralt tested him, driving up, faster and harder and Jaskier only threw his hands above his head to brace himself, crying out _ah._ Geralt could break him without even trying. 

Geralt slowed down, riding into Jaskier lazily. Jaskier blinked at him with dazed eyes. Jaskier whined a little, pushing back, seeking friction. Shifting backwards to put more weight on his knees, Geralt freed a hand to run it down Jaskier’s side. “Shh,” Geralt said and Jaskier went limp. 

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” Geralt asked, keeping his strokes firm. 

Jaskier tried to focus, but his eyes kept slipping closed. 

Geralt took his hand away from Jaskier’s slide and slapped his arse cheek, one good smack resounding in the air between them. 

Jaskier glared at him, but Geralt just beamed, all teeth. “Don’t you want this to last?” 

“Are you saying you have no stamina?” 

Geralt shook his head. “No, I’m questioning yours,” and he reached a hand between them to grab Jaskier’s cock, giving it a cruel stroke, hard, with a twist at the end. Jaskier wailed. 

Satisfied, he pulled his hand away and the sound Jaskier made at the loss was one of the sweetest Geralt had ever heard. 

“No, I’m not afraid of you, you utter bastard.” 

Geralt smiled down at him, Jaskier had been listening. 

Geralt collapsed forward, canting his hips against Jaskier’s sharply just to listen to him gasp, knowing that sound was because of him. Geralt wanted it. Geralt pressed his mouth to Jaskier’s to swallow up his breath for himself. 

Jaskier responded, licking up into Geralt’s mouth with -- Geralt hummed with the realisation -- the same rhythm that Geralt was fucking him with. 

Wasn’t that fun. Geralt played with it, pulling back to hammer at Jaskier quickly. Jaskier responded by flicking his tongue against Geralt’s teeth, which might have tickled except Geralt was too far gone to feel it as anything but a maddening tease. 

He switched back to the long, thorough strokes, driving Jaskier mad as he tried to get more friction. Geralt could do this all day. 

Jaskier squirmed. “You son of a bitch.” 

Geralt frowned at him, exaggerated. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Maybe you’re the mean one here.” Geralt didn’t change his rhythm one bit. 

Jaskier squawked, grabbing for the back of Geralt’s neck and planting his feet to try and get leverage. Geralt let him -- for a few seconds. 

Then he lifted him, easy as a feather, until Geralt was up on his knees, Jaskier’s weight resting on them and Jaskier’s toes were scrambling to get purchase. 

Jaskier was so mad and Geralt felt drunk with it. Geralt worried the skin of Jaskier’s collarbone with his teeth, which perversely made Jaskier relax, moaning. 

Couldn’t have that. 

Geralt sat up, pulling Jaskier with him and settling one of his hands in the small of Jaskier’s back to help him balance. Geralt could feel the ridges and bumps of Jaskier’s spine. 

Jaskier wiggled. Geralt stayed still. 

“Come on and fuck me,” Jaskier growled. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted more leverage?” 

Jaskier cursed at him -- inventively. Geralt was pretty sure Jaskier wished that Geralt’s fields would be visited by locusts somewhere in there. Still, Geralt remained still. 

No force could make Geralt move when he didn’t want to, and Jaskier knew it. 

So finally, Jaskier started to lift up, fucking himself on Geralt’s cock. Feeling charitable, Geralt decided to help him out. 

Grabbing two handfuls of arse he helped Jaskier lift up and come back down. The friction was amazing, so Geralt did it again. 

Then, trusting Jaskier to work in his own best interest, he let go and decided to put his hands to better use. 

He devoured Jaskier’s mouth, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, pressing kisses to the corners of his mouth, his jaw, biting down to taste his pulse there. 

Geralt wrapped his hand loosely around Jaskier’s cock and felt it jump. Jaskier’s rhythm stuttered. 

“Geralt, I --” 

“Shh, I got you, keep going,” Geralt said, looping his arm around Jaskier’s back and nudging his hips up, just a little, for emphasis. 

Jaskier nodded and kept nodding as Geralt resumed his strokes, making sure to gently twist over the head of Jaskier’s cock. It got him whines and wetness. 

Then Geralt started to smell it, the rise of Jaskier’s orgasm. It was coming towards them, but it wasn’t there yet. Geralt let go. 

Jaskier’s eyes snapped open. “You’re unbelievable.” Geralt watched Jaskier form the words that came out more as a croak. Jaskier’s lips were all pink from where Geralt had been biting on them. 

Geralt shrugged. “After what you said, how could I not?” 

Jaskier bunched up his muscles, desperately trying to fuck himself to completion, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

Before he could blink, Geralt was lowering him down until just his shoulders were on the mattress. Geralt kept his hips up so that his toes weren’t even touching the ground. 

And then Geralt pulled almost all the way out, until just the head of his cock was still inside Jaskier before ever so slowly pushing back in. He lingered, then slid back. 

Jaskier was kicking at Geralt’s back with his his heels, fruitlessly. They felt like little kitten kicks, easily ignored. 

“What?” Geralt asked, “You can’t come like this?” 

“You know I bloody well can’t,” Jaskier snarled and Geralt laughed. A true laugh that came right from the belly. But he didn’t speed up at all. 

“I’ll get you there, Jaskier, you know that.” 

“When?” Jaskier whined. “Some of us are mortal and do age quickly.” 

Geralt frowned. He stroked his thumb along the ridge of Jaskier’s hip. He was too skinny, Geralt could feel the sharpness of the bone under the skin. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jaskier said. “Please, will you fuck me?” 

“Maybe if you ask me nicely enough, I’m not sure I’m in the mood anymore.” His cock called him a liar. There was nothing that was going to stop him now. 

“What do you want me to say? That your cock feels magnificent inside me? That after you’ve gone I press my fingers inside of myself just to feel the phantom burn of you and it’s never enough? That every time I get to fuck you I can’t walk the next day because you leave me quivering?” This was the other thing he loved about fucking Jaskier, the man had a way with words. “Please, just tell me what you want me to say.” 

Gerault let his rhythm be the answer as he started to fuck into Jaskier harder. Just as controlled, just as steady, but with a sharp shock at the end, relishing the way Jaskier cried out at the end of every thrust. 

It wouldn’t be long now. 

He grabbed both of Jaskier’s hips, using them for leverage to pull Jaskier back onto his cock just as much as he was fucking into him, shorter, sharper, and faster, til Geralt was hammering at him, slightly too quickly to be fully human. Jaskier loved it though, crying out and egging Geralt on until Geralt felt his orgasm slam him between the eyes, driving him deep in Jaskier and Jaskier welcomed him inside. Even when they were as close as they could get it wasn’t enough and he pressed in as much as he could as Geralt spent inside. 

Finally it was over, and he sighed. 

Poor Jaskier was spread out, speared on Geralt’s softening cock, his own hard and demanding attention. So Geralt reached out and stroked him off efficiently, no more teasing or messing around. Just steady firm strokes, exactly the way Jaskier liked them until Jaskier came, spurting up Geralt’s chest from belly button to neck. 

Geralt inhaled, greedy. 

This was his favourite part: getting to see Jaskier come undone, smell the mingled scents of their release. But above all he loved how tight Jaskier got, squeezing Geralt’s over-sensitive cock like a vise. It might be painful, on another man, but for Geralt it was just the right amount of too much. 

He slowly eased his way out, lowering Jaskier’s hips onto the mattress before crawling up the bed to lay next to Jaskier. 

“So, how does this stack up?” 

Jaskier slid his hand under his head, looking up at the ceiling beams, considering. “Hmm, better than Vizima, not as good as Novigrad.” 

Geralt thought back to those times. In Novigrad he’d had several hours to work with. “Not bad,” Geralt said, then spread the blanket over the two of them before passing out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are so appreciated! Copying a line or saying 'I liked this' makes my day!
> 
> Also, if you liked this, consider reblogging on tumblr: [here](https://tmblr.co/ZD3Daw2nEuZIa)


End file.
